


Brown Sugar

by GingerGinny



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), omgcp
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerGinny/pseuds/GingerGinny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bittle wasn’t the problem, the idea of losing him was. The notion Jack had concocted in his head of what would happen if he lost the sunshine in his life. Like a nightmare but so much more real, something his head wouldn’t let him forget.</p>
<p>In which Jack has an anxiety attack, and Bittle is there to help this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brown Sugar

His anxiety; the thing that stopped him from doing so many things he wanted. The feelings that stopped him from kissing Bittle beyond his torso, stopped him from running his fingers along Bittle’s firm thighs. Practically forced him into the bathroom; because somehow, in his mind, pleasuring himself to the thought of his boyfriend was easier than the actual act.

Jack zipped up his jeans and looked at his reflection. A nervous and tired Canadian looked back.

This wasn’t what he wanted, no matter what his brain said. Jerking off in a slightly cold bathroom was definitely not what he pictured would happen during their post-graduation kiss. He wanted to do so much more with Bittle, but every time he got close, he froze. It wasn’t like on the ice where if he froze, the action would keep going on around him.

“Honey?” Came that sweet, melodic voice that made Jack’s heart melt. Bittle had a splash of water on his shirt from doing the dishes and Jack added it to the list of adorable mundane things that he’d notice about the blond. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m great, Bits.” He replied with a peck to Bittle’s cheek.

“Oh, thank goodness. You were in there such a long time,” Bittle said with a relieved smile, “I thought maybe the cobbler had upset you.”

Bittle stretched up to kiss Jack and they stood in the warm kitchen, a dishrag pressed against Jack’s shirt. He had his hands on Bittle’s back and pressed him close; soft lips that tasted like the brown sugar dusting off the cobbler.

Bittle wasn’t the problem, the idea of losing him was. The notion Jack had concocted in his head of what would happen if he lost the sunshine in his life. Like a nightmare but so much more _real_ , something his head wouldn’t let him forget.

Because he could accidently hurt Bittle; what if he fainted like he was getting checked? What if Jack got lost and too heavy with the younger man, or crossed a line that he wasn’t even entirely sure existed? There were so many things he could do wrong; those thoughts somehow stronger than his desire to see Bittle in ecstasy.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re alright?”

He couldn’t know, he couldn’t find out. Bittle would be crushed if he knew he was adding even the slightest bit to Jack’s anxiety. After all, he had enough on his mind with upcoming games by having just signed with Providence, his boyfriend should be the least of his problems.

“Sweetie?”

Milk chocolate eyes looked up at him from under blond eyelashes and somewhere in his chest, Jack clenched. He couldn’t find words, his mouth slightly agape and breath short. His shirt fabric pulled at his shoulders as Bittle’s fingers grasped harder.

“Jackie?”

He tried to find something to say and nothing came out. His hands had moved off of Bittle’s back and now barely grazed the clothing on his hips instead. Bittle’s hand felt soft on his face and he hadn’t even realised his eyes had started watering- the pain in his chest more distracting. It crawled up his throat and stopped him from saying anything at all.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Bittle whispered, getting on the very tips of his toes to reach better, “You’re alright, you’re safe here. C’mon okay, come sit down.”

Jack let himself be guided by Bittle’s soft hands to the couch. They never looked apart; in the short summer break, Bittle had learned the apartment layout like the back of his hand. He had wanted to give Jack a home; an actual _home_ for the both of them, where the two of them could be in their own little bubble. No rambunctious frat boys or party-goers, no snoopy southern parents with a little too much generosity, no one who could take away their peace and love and happiness.

He’d worked hard to fill it with things that Jack could look at and think of him; hand-knitted pot-holders and embroidered dishrags. Homemade curtains like the ones at the Haus but in creamsicle orange. Blankets that were combos of one’s Bittle knitted himself and ones he bought because they were cute, a particular one covered in cartoon Mooses thrown over the couch back.

This was the one he picked up and draped over Jack’s shoulders, tucking the corners up against the taller man’s chest. He swung a knee over Jack’s legs so he was sitting on his lap, his hands on the back of Jack’s neck.

“Jack,” He said softly, “Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”

“You.”

He’d said it before he’d even meant to say anything; realising his mistake the very second Bittle’s hands stiffened. How he straightened and slightly recoiled, just enough to make Jack’s chest clench.

“No, not-” Jack said, his voice straining. He couldn’t look Bittle in the eyes anymore, instead pressing his head up against the smaller man’s chest. He took a deep breath and it came out jagged sounding.

Bittle was slow and quiet with his words. He was trying his best to stop his voice from wavering, somewhat failing. “Have I done something wrong?”

  
_Besides be perfect?_ Jack shook his head against Bittle’s chest and let out a shallow sob. He didn’t deserve Bittle; was there a thing as being too much in love? He curled around him gently and his hands found the square of Bittle’s back.

“I love you, Bits,” He paused, trying to get shaky breathing under control. Even then Bittle ran his hands down his back, rubbing in small circles. Gave him small kisses on the crown of his head and Jack could feel his warm breath on his scalp. “I’m just… I’m so scared of losing you.”

Bittle’s hands slowed “What?”

He had to trust Bittle. He had to- his heart was telling him to but his mind wasn’t.

“I’m scared that I’m gonna hurt you, and that I don’t deserve all this-”

Bittle stopped him mid-sentence by grabbing his face, tilting his head up. Ice eyes met acorn colored ones and Jack nearly choked- Bittle had tears in his eyes and a heart wrenching look on his face. He looked almost distraught, soft feminine features full of worry.

“Jack Zimmermann,” He said sternly, a few of the tears spilling over onto his cheeks. “Don’t you dare do this to yourself.”

Jack blinked, and one of Bittle’s tears fell onto his face. His southern accent was thicker now with his emotions and his thumbs pressed tenderly against Jack’s cheekbones. It was like looking up at a crying angel, and Jack’s stomach plummeted.

“Don’t you dare convince yourself that you aren’t the love of my entire god-given life. You deserve every last ounce of love I have to give and a thousand times that.” He went on, wiping at Jack’s face.

“...Really?”

Bittle’s bottom lip quivered as he nodded.

“Really, _really_ , baby.”

His hands moved to the back of Jack’s shirt and kneaded away at the muscles there, gentle fingertips brushing through the thin fabric. He was curled around Jack’s torso now and had his face buried in Jack’s shoulder. His movements might not have stopped the warm tears he felt pressed into his own shoulder moments later, or the way Jack was trembling; but on some level it helped, Bittle knew it did.

Because this time, he wasn’t standing on the other side of a locked door, listening to Jack quietly sob. This time he had Jack in his arms and under his fingers and in the center of his world, loved and getting better.

“You’re not alone, sweetie, I’m right here.” Bittle whispered as Jack pulled him in tight against his chest. “I’m here and I love you.”

Quiet moments where it was just Jack’s shaking and Bittle whispering sweet things against his neck. It turned into minutes; Bittle could only tell time by how his lower back started to ache from bending it awkwardly. But unless God almighty himself came down, nothing would make him let go of Jack. Back pain be screwed.

And when Jack’s breathing finally slowed to a normal pace and his chest shed the extra weight that’d built up there, he responded. Softly into Bittle’s shoulder and into the little space between their chests:

“Thank you.”

Three words went unsaid, but lingered in the way that Jack looked at Bittle. They parted slightly, and Jack wondered how Bittle’s lips still managed to taste like brown sugar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time posting in this fandom, I love the comic so much, I kinda spit this out. 
> 
> It's so short and I'm really sorry about that, but I was just so excited to post it honestly. Maybe let me know what you think of it? That'd be totally rad.


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